Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Colombia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Nik Kershaw to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang on a Can All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Khruangbin,
Talk Talk,
Lungfish,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bill Near,
Glenn Branca,
The Smoke,
Skriet,
The Doors,
Interpol,
Subhumans,
Mandrill,
Jacob Miller,
R.M.O.,
Piero Umiliani,
The Toasters,
The Music Machine,
Scan 7,
Marine Girls,
Don Cherry,
Flash Fearless,
Joe Finger,
Slave,
Young Marble Giants,
The Dirtbombs,
Niagra,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Drexciya,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Das Ding,
Roxy Music,
Hoover,
Silicon Teens,
Lakeside,
Mad Mike,
Bill Wells,
Black Flag,
The Martian,
48th St. Collective,
Minor Threat,
Dead Boys,
The J.B.'s,
Joensuu 1685,
Ornette Coleman,
CMW,
the Slits,
Archie Shepp,
Radiohead,
Janne Schatter,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Darondo,
Joy Division,
The Durutti Column,
Marc Almond,
Masters at Work,
Japan,
Whodini,
Infiniti,
The Move,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.